Chapter 2

The Bannered Mare was a decent inn. It had a few rooms, served decent enough food and had the very sweet Honningbrew mead. The fire roared in the centre of the room as people gathered around it. Mikael the bard, played his lute in silence, probably waiting for more persons to come in in the afternoon before he started singing. Jaegar and Aela walked over to Hulda, owner of the inn.

"Companions. To what do I owe this visit?"

Aela spoke first as Jaegar scanned the inn.

"We're looking for the guy I spoke to this morning. Breton, brown short hair, little shorter than you."

"Him, he's in the back."

Jaegar peered past the pillar blocking him to see the Breton was indeed sitting drinking some mead. He started moving towards the man.

"Try not to break anything," Hulda warned.

"No promises," Aela told her as she watched Jaegar move.

Jaegar approached the man. "Evening. Now you may not know me, but you spoke to a friend of mine this morning. A woman, red hair, green paint on her face."

"Oh shit!" The Breton pulled a blade from under his clothes and swung at Jaegar. Jaegar dodged back as the man turned and made for the stairs. Jaegar grabbed the man's chair and threw it, just barely missing him as he went up the stairs. Jaegar sprinted up after him.

Aela watched as the two of them disappeared into a room upstairs. She could hear them scuffling upstairs. There was the sound of blows landing and a pot breaking. Eventually the man ran onto the upstairs landing overlooking the tavern and pressed himself up against the railing backing the room. She could not see Jaegar from where she was, but could tell that that wolfish grin he had was no doubt spread across his face.

"Fus Ro!"

The entire room seemed to shake as Jaegar released the Shout. The Breton broke through the wooden railing and flew clean over the fire. Jaegar walked onto the landing and looked down at his handywork. The Breton tried to get up. Aela stopped him by bringing her boot down on his hand, shaking her head when he tried to move.

She picked him up by his collar as Jaegar jumped down from the landing. Hulda was about to start complaining when he threw her a pouch of septims. She clammed up quick.

"You complain about spending money Hunter, when you just throw it around."

"I was complaining about Eorlund's charge for a shield, not about spending money." He looked the Breton in the eye and smiled. "You set us up you milk-drinker."

"No I... aaggh." Jaegar pressed a typical steel dagger against the man's throat. "Okay, okay... I set you up. I'm a member of the Silver Hands, but I'm not a fighter, so they had me set up a group of you guys."

"That's better," Jaegar said, tapping him on the cheek with the dagger.

"Where are they?" Aela asked, lifting him higher off the ground.

"They're in an old Nord keep, northwest of Redoran's Retreat in Hjaalmarch Hold south of Morthal."

"Now here's where we get a slight problem," Jaegar said. "Because of how honest you were, I'm inclined to let you live, but if I let you live you might try to get up there and warn them that we know where they are."

"Don't kill 'im in here," Hulda said.

"Yeah, don't kill me in here," the Breton said.

"Okay."

They dragged him outside in front of the well. "We'll just kill you out here."

"Mara's mercy," the Breton squeaked. Jaegar looked down at the pool of water that started to accumulate at the Breton's feet.

The Whiterun guards approached them. "Hold there. What are you doing?"

"Companion business," Jaegar said, looking up at them.

"My apologies."

"Don't let them kill me! Please!"

Aela looked at Jaegar. "He's not worth the kill."

Jaegar snorted. She was right. "Guards!"

"Yes, Companion?"

"Throw this man in prison," he said, throwing him to the guard's feet.

"On what charges?"

"Because I, Thane of Whiterun said so." With that he turned away as the guards lifted the Breton off the ground, uttering his thanks to the Eight.

"We set out for them first thing tomorrow," Jaegar told Aela.

"Then where are you going?"

"My house."

Aela followed him, never once having been there. She was quite surprised when he opened the door, it was quite homely despite the fact that he did not really live there. He started up the fireplace as she looked around. The front held the fireplace and a bookshelf on the right wall. To the left was a long shelf upon which were various different trinkets, some of which even looked Dwemer in origin. The back held a table and bench up against a window. A couple cupboard were there, lined with various spices, herbs, fruits and vegetables. Next to the cupboards, under the stairs, was a door that led to an alchemy lab. She could see a bookshelf stacked with books along the entire wall. Upstairs held two bedrooms, a small one through a door at the top of the stairs to the left, and one that would be over the kitchen/dining area, which was the master bedroom. The door to the master bedroom was open. She could see two swords and a shield hanging over the bed head. A black striped rug was on the floor at the foot of the bed. She wondered if it came from some kind of a sabre cat.

She returned downstairs to him.

"Curiosity satisfied?" he inquired.

"It's quite nice Hunter," she said.

"I know."

"Where's your housecarl?"

"She's travelling with a Khajiit caravan. It's where I get some of my gold from."

"Really?"

"Yes. I made a deal with Ri'saad, leader of the caravans. I come across a lot of trinkets and odds and ends in my travels, so I trade them to him, as well as invest gold into the caravan itself. As part of the agreement he allows Lydia, to travel with his caravan."

"I see. Yet you complain about spending three hundred gold on Tor's shield."

"You're not going to let me live that down are you?"

"No way, Hunter."

He sighed and started preparing a meal.

"I didn't think you could cook."

"That's because Tilma always cooks," he said as he seasoned the meat.

"True." She looked around at the bookcases and picked a book at random off the shelf. "This is quite an impressive collection of books."

"Thank you. Be careful some are quite rare and others" - he chuckled - "are ill-gotten."

"I see. Why so many books though? Do you read all of them?"

"I've read many of them."

"You almost sound like you could be a mage."

Jaegar shrugged. "I'm actually part Breton, though you can't see it. My mother was half Breton."

"Then where'd you get the name Jaegar?"

"From Oblivion for all I know. I've never heard of anyone else with the name. It's actually my middle name. First name's Sylvio."

Aela snickered and swallowed a laugh.

"Now that was given to me by my mother."

He pierced the meat to let it cook then went upstairs. He took off his armour in his bedroom. "Feel free to change, we're not going anywhere tonight," he told her as she leaned against the railing outisde the door.

"What if something happens and we need to fight?"

"If you can't find a dagger hidden somewhere around here I missed a spot," he chuckled.

"Okay. I'm honoured to be welcomed to your home."

"Do you ever relax?" When she hesitated, Jaegar stopped her. "Never mind."

She took off her armour, leaving the first layer of clothes she had on underneath, wrappings around her breasts and a bottom that went down her thighs a little. She hung her armour over the railing as Jaegar walked out of his bedroom in trousers and shirtless, tying up his locks. She walked down the stairs. Despite her confidence in her abilities to fight she felt naked without her weapons. Seeing her discomfort, Jaegar reached under the bench as he served the meal, pulling out an elven dagger.

"There's a glass one under where you're sitting. It's a little heavy on the back end."

She reached under the bench and pulled the blade. Indeed it was exactly as he said.

"There are a few steel ones under the actual table, they're smaller than most and only the first inch up the tip is sharpened."

She reached under the table and felt the line of daggers. "Meant for throwing?"

He nodded as he placed the meat onto her plate. "There are others around too."

"Why so many?"

"It was milder until the first Dark Brotherhood assassin, had a Cyrodillic accent I think. Then I really changed the place. I have about a hundred different daggers in here. I didn't get the lock changed until a couple of days before Skjor died. Unfortunately the second assassin came before that, a black furred Khajiit. I didn't show you my new rug did I?"

Aela laughed at that and took a bite of beef.

"I'm serious, skinned, cleaned and laid out right in front my bed. If it was bigger you would think it came off of a sabre cat."

"I've no doubt Hunter, trust me. What happened after you changed the locks?"

"Nothing."

"Nothing? That's quite boring."

Jaegar shrugged, swallowing his beef. "It looks normal on the outside, but I managed to craft a Dwemer mechanism from parts I got out of a set of ruins. From both sides it looks like a regular lock, but it's a very precise and peculiar mechanism."

"Peculiar? How can it be peculiar if you crafted it."

Jaegar pulled out two more bottles of Honningbrew mead and gave one to Aela. "I did. Let's leave how it works a mystery though."

Aela shrugged and took a gulp of the sweet mead.

"I've heard you've been all over," she said as it slid down her throat.

"Not really. Been to Morthal, Markarth and Windhelm. I'm hoping to head to Falkreath soon. I heard the forests out there are full of game. Maybe even the Prince of the Hunt."

The mead caught in Aela's throat and she began to cough. "You mean the ultimate hunt granted by Hircine?"

"The same."

"I would be honoured if you let me accompany you."

Jaegar smiled, holding up his bottle of Honningbrew. "I wouldn't have it any other way Huntress."